Red-Haired Mary
by Mottles
Summary: Being an utterly fanciful, fictitious, and entirely inaccurate account of the meeting of Éomer and Lothíriel inspired by the Irish tune, "Red-Haired Mary".
1. One Fine Morning Last July

_While going to the Fair of Dingle,  
_ _One fine morning last July,  
_ _Walking down the road before me,  
_ _A red-haired girl I chanced to spy._

Well, it started out as a fine morning. And really, I have no complaints about the rest of the day either, it's just that at the time my impulsive scheme seemed to have a gaping hole in it. Sure, I'd escaped my brothers on the Pelennor, sending them off on a wild goose chase after my horse, but… it did leave me with the daunting proposition of _walking_ back to Minas Tirith. And so my clever silver lining of an escape really did have a rather large raincloud attached to it.

But I wasn't about to let that deter me. No, free mornings are far too precious for the daughter of Prince Imrahil to complain about. And I do love a good walk.

Of course, I do love a good ride even more. Which is the reason I'd come out to the Pelennor Fields in the first place. You see, I've always loved to ride, but being the lady that I am (or, more accurately, the lady that I _should_ be), I am discouraged from "rough riding" as my father calls it. Hard, wild gallops are not suitable for the Lady Lothíriel, oh no. But the Pelennor looked so lovely this morning…

I woke just before dawn, wide awake, the kind of awake where you feel as if something extraordinary is about to happen, and you don't want to miss it. I got up and dressed quickly before running outside to the nearest vantage point.

Dawn really suits the Pelennor Fields. They start off hidden in shadow, but as the sky lightens, gradually dwellings and trees and figures can be made out. Some days, there is the most magnificent fog hugging the ground. This morning it was misty, with the tiny, moving shapes below flitting in and about like shadows.

I so wanted to be out there. I love the mysteries of fog. A hazard on the sea, of course, but there's still something mystical about it, and I wanted to go riding. Of course, I knew my brothers would never allow it (why are they more protective than my father?). They know I'd be likely to ride off and try and lose them in the fog. But it was a thin fog, and I knew by the time I persuaded them to accompany me it would be all but gone. So they wouldn't expect me to escape them… which is exactly how I managed to do it.

Well, anyway, I ended up alone on the Pelennor. Well, not _alone_ alone, because people live and farm all over it now, and there are always animals about, and dwellings and orchards scattered ever and anon. But alone as in minus my three brothers.

And what a wonderful feeling that was.

I headed toward the city pretty much right away. I knew it would take me a long time to get back, but it was worth it. Of course, I didn't think returning for a scolding was _that_ pressing, so I saw no harm in stopping to chat to the locals or look at some of the scattered wildflowers. _No, don't mind if I do try your fresh-baked bread, thank you very much!_ I do love farmers; they are such wonderful people. And they wouldn't dare chide a noble lady for being out and about without an escort or three.

I was content. Late morning found me walking alone, past some houses and along the border of a large orchard. The sun was deliciously warm, high in the sky, but not scorching. Birds flitted about, chirping. Rabbits nibbled grass in the shade of the small fruit trees.

I spun around, arms out, taking it all in. What a fine morning to be alive! As I continued walking, arms swinging carelessly at my sides, I felt the urge to break out in song. Well, why not? Soon the simple lyrics to one of my favourite shanties filled the air. It wasn't anything special, but I did feel that the day really deserved some good music. And once the song was over I continued to _tra-la-la_. If only I had thought to bring my flute, then we would have had a rip-roaring time!

It was then that I noticed the hoofbeats. I thought at first that it was my brothers, which really bothered me because I hadn't even managed to make it back to the city by myself. But then I realized I was only hearing the sound of one horse, and a walking horse at that, so it couldn't be anyone who wanted to rein me in. Probably a farmer. And he had probably seen me twirling and singing and making a general fool of myself, so I just kept walking casually, whistling, and ignored him.

I did begin to get curious when I noticed that the horse was following me. Wanting to discourage any pursuit, I had cut between a couple of houses and across a field, taking a winding, scenic tour back to the city. But I heard the rider urge his mount over a low stone wall that I crossed. It was then that I looked back over my shoulder impertinently to reprimand him.

 _Well, well, well._ There was a very handsome man upon that horse. Broad shouldered and tall, long hair loose upon his head. A strawhead from Rohan. He wore simple clothing and a long dark cloak. Upon his feet was a pair of sturdy boots. Sweat formed a large V on his shirt and a shiny layer over his face. Sweat covered the horse as well. Yet as simple as his clothes were, they were trimmed with gold and had some grand embroidery. He wore no particular crest or colours, and yet not many in Rohan could afford such luxury. I did wonder…

And he didn't look at all abashed that I'd caught him following me. His eyes easily found mine and he grinned as he nudged his horse forward.


	2. To the Dingle Fair!

_I stepped up to her, says I "Young Lady,  
_ _My donkey, he can carry two."  
_ _She looked at me, her eyes a-twinkle  
_ _And her cheeks they were a rosy hue._

" _Thank you kindly, sir," she answered  
_ _And then she shook her bright red hair  
_ " _Seeing as how you've got a donkey,  
_ _I'll ride with you to the Dingle Fair."_

The horseman drew level with me.

"My horse can carry two," he said by way of greeting. The cheek of that man! But his grin was very infectious. I tilted my head to the side and smiled up at him.

"Well, seeing as you're heading to the city," I said daringly, "I guess I could go with you."

What a sight I must have presented—a wild-looking woman loose on the plains, red dress and red hair whirling around, and a noble woman at that. I'm sure he liked the sight.

Come to think of it, he probably knew exactly who I was. There just aren't that many redheads in Gondor. I could be in some trouble if this story spreads. But his identity wasn't much of a mystery either, so I guess we're even.

He reached down quickly and before I knew it I was pulled up and seated nicely in his lap. He wasn't at all shy about putting his left arm around my waist as he held the reins with the other. I must have grinned crazily, but I do like a man with confidence.

"Your name, my fair maiden?" he asked.

"As if you couldn't guess it, my gallant Lord Éomer," I replied cheekily.

He snorted. "As wild as your brothers, I see, Lady Lothíriel."

"I am not a thing like my brothers, my lord."

"Was that not them I saw galloping over the plain a while ago, the Dol Amroth swan flapping in the breeze?"

I laughed. "Aye, it was. But they ride for need, where I ride for choice."

"And where would they need to ride so readily? Not to your rescue, clearly."

"Nay, my lord, you've done that quite well yourself. I confess, I sent my horse off to distract them while I made good my escape."

His chest and my back were already touching, but I leaned back to rest on him. His arm tightened slightly around me.

"Never have I been so glad to come to anyone's rescue," he said. His voice sounded very close to my ear.

I grinned. "You're taking advantage of me. A king should treat a princess with much higher respect."

"Oh, of course. I never properly introduced myself. I am Éomer, King of Rohan, and I am very well pleased to meet your ladyship." His arm left my waist long enough for him to bring my hand to his mouth to kiss it. Lingeringly. I pulled my hand away and sat up straighter, though I must say I did enjoy the feel of his beard on my skin.

"And what brings you to Gondor, my lord?" I asked politely. I can be polite.

"Women!" he answered readily. "Well, one anyway. I've come to Gondor to find myself a wife."

I turned my head to grin at him. "What a coincidence. I was brought here to attract a husband."

Éomer pulled his arm away and gathered my hair together, slowly twisting it before draping it over my shoulder. "Well," he said. "You like horses. You like the plains. You're of noble birth. You're independent. And you're absolutely stunning. That's all I need." His eyes were intense. I have never, _never_ been this close to a man before. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up.

"Are you proposing to me, my lord Éomer?" I asked, casting him what I hope was a coy look.

He was smiling. "What, am I unappealing to you?" He smelled very strongly of sweat and of horse and he knew it. He pulled me a little closer, but I didn't really mind.

"I do like the sight of a fine young man on a horse," I conceded. I nestled a little in his lap. What a fine place to be.

"This fine young man has been riding hard this morning," he said.

"I bet you would," I murmured.

"I would love to see a woman who could keep up with me, if I were to ride tomorrow."

"Are we speaking of any woman or of me specifically, my lord? Because proper young ladies never go galloping across the plain with reckless young men."

"I have no interest in proper young ladies when there are wilder ones to be had."

"How fortunate for you that I've never been a proper Dol Amroth lady, Éomer." It was a great liberty calling him by his first name, but I have always been a bit of a gambler.

"Well then, Lothíriel? Are you up for a morning ride?"

"If I can ever manage to get my father's permission to go riding again, and if my brothers ever let me near my horse, or any horse, for that matter, then of course I would like to go riding. But I very much doubt that they are looking kindly upon me at the moment."

"And how exactly did you manage to lose the Lords Amrothos, Erchirion, and Elphir? I have heard they are very fine soldiers, all three. Of course, I am asking solely out of political interest. As a king, my future queen must be a cunning woman, able to solve any problems that rise while I am away. I would never dream of mentioning this to her brothers, if ever the occasion should arise."

I had to smile. This man certainly spoke my language.

"Well you see, I have this cloak I'm very fond of," I began. "Unlike my brother's cloaks, it _doesn't_ display the Dol Amroth swan, but it is nonetheless very distinctive, and I always wear it when we go out riding. After this morning's initial gallop across the plains, my brothers and I dismounted to stretch our legs and give the horses a break. And wouldn't you know it, but we came upon some lads wrestling. Now, my brothers, being who they are, decided that a wrestling match or two would be just the thing, and promptly challenged the locals."

"And what Dol Amroth man—or woman—ever turned down an opportunity to show off?" asked Éomer.

"Just so, my lord," I said. "And in their usual way they directly and explicitly forbade me from challenging anyone to a horse race, which I certainly would have done. As it turned out, in the excitement of the wrestling match I persuaded one of the locals to don my cloak, mount my horse, and lead my brothers off in a merry chase. For _I_ might not be able to ride, but my brothers said nothing about any of the locals."

"And this local lad did so simply for the pleasure of obliging a lady, did he?"

"Oh, most definitely," I replied. "And then again, perhaps I may have let slip something about Dol Amroth folk being the best sailors _and_ the best riders in Gondor. Perhaps Pelennor pride was at stake. And perhaps some coin entered into the matter."

"How diplomatic of you."

I grinned. "Meanwhile, I walked through the barn and out through the settlement, directing my trusty and adventuresome feet back to Minas Tirith."

I half turned to look at him.

"I had no intention of catching a ride with anyone, but since you seemed to be heading in my direction and since you have such a magnificent animal, I couldn't resist."

A most delightful smile was framed in that equally magnificent beard of his, and I quickly turned away as a blush spread through my cheeks.

"I would not have permitted you to resist, my dear, even had you wished to. And now do tell me what has caused you to blush most becomingly."

Oops. I _had_ been thinking very frank thoughts about that beard and those lips.

I replied, "Oh, thoughts no well-bred daughter of Dol Amroth should be thinking. And yourself?" I tossed back.

I'm sure he grinned again. "Thoughts no well-bred daughter of Dol Amroth should hear."

And in more or less that manner we continued until we reached the city gates. It did take us some time. We were in no hurry.


	3. Keep Your Hands off Red-haired Mary

_And when we reached the Fair in Dingle  
_ _I took her hand for to say goodbye,  
_ _When a tinker man stepped up beside me,  
_ _And belted me in my left eye._

 _Keep your hands off Red Haired Mary,  
_ _Her and I are to be wed!  
_ _We'll see the priest this very morning,  
_ _And tonight we'll lie in a married bed._

We sat properly once we were in plain view. He held his hand loosely near my waist and we hardly touched at all. I suppose I must act properly every now and then. I didn't really mind, though, because we had had the ride. And there would be more privacy once we reached the stable. I was not finished with this man, oh no, not by a long shot.

We did not speak at all as we passed through the gates and down the broad streets to the main stable. I held my tongue because I knew if I spoke I would say something improper. Perhaps Éomer had similar thoughts.

Inside the stables we stopped outside one of the first stalls. Éomer dismounted and took my hand to look me in the eye. Despite our familiarity on the ride over, we had not seen much of each other's faces. Most regrettable—just behold that man's beard! And that suggestive, suggestive gaze.

"My dear Lothíriel, it has been a pleasure," he said. "If ever you find yourself in a similar situation, I'd be more than happy to rescue you again. Or do anything else for you."

"Éomer, you tease me," I said severely. "How am I supposed to thank you properly…" I glanced at the horse's head, then back to the desirable man. "…from up upon this horse?"

He grinned and lifted his hands to my waist and pulled me off. He set my feet firmly upon the ground. Close to his, I might add. Very close. I looked up into his eyes.

"How's that?" he asked. "Better?"

I put my hands behind his neck and toyed with a few strands of his light hair.

"Much better," I said.

"Hey! Get your hands off my sister, you brute!"

My handsome man and I turned our heads at the same moment to find ourselves looking in the face of a rather irate Amrothos.

Slam! I was thrown off balance as Éomer was ripped from me. I caught my balance—or rather, Amrothos caught it for me by forcibly grabbing my arm—and I saw Éomer lying the ground, clutching at his head. He removed his hands and looked up at us, a bruise already forming around his left eye. I was in awe, and I confess I almost laughed.

"I'll have the guards in here in a moment, you strawhead cur!" my brother continued. "You'll rue this day for the rest of your life. Be assured, your king will hear of this!"


	4. Aggressive Negotiations

_Well I was feelin' kinda peevish,  
_ _My poor old eye was sad and sore,  
_ _So I tapped him gently with my hobnail  
_ _And he fell back through Murphy's door._

 _A peeler he came around the corner,  
_ _And told me I had broke the law.  
_ _But my donkey kicked him in the kneecap,  
_ _And he fell down and broke his jaw._

Éomer rose to his feet. Aside from his initial shock, he didn't look phased at all.

"You think you'll deter me with that little tap, you runty savage?" he asked cheerfully. "And I _am_ the strawhead king."

Ha, he didn't have to tell _me_ that! And runty was not the word I would have used to taunt Amrothos. He is neither exceedingly tall nor short, so it really has no application. But I'm sure it annoyed him all the same, especially combined with the word savage. Dol Amroth is very refined, I'll have you know, probably much more so than Edoras. Amrothos's lips began to form a very rude word, but then stopped in surprise.

Clearly my brother had no idea just who Éomer was. He was also taken by surprise when Éomer's leg came up in a vicious kick. I was thrown off balance again—my brother's grip was rather tight—but this time I was saved by falling into the horse. Amrothos was not so fortunate. He went sprawling into a stall wall and then tumbled into the floor. This time I may have laughed, but only a little.

Éomer looked to me and grinned.

"You mongrel!" came another familiar voice. "That's my brother! And _that's_ my sister!"

We looked to the voice and saw Erchirion approaching from farther in the stables, face clouded with fury. Oh, Éomer, my dear man, this is not the way to impress my family.

"What do you think you're doing, you barbarian?" he demanded.

"I just kicked your brother's sorry self to the floor and I plan to marry your sister," Éomer announced.

Oh, is it official now, my dear? I can't say I object.

"You aren't going to _touch_ my sister, horseman," Erchirion hissed. "And you won't be fit to marry _any_ one once I'm through with you."

Éomer grinned slowly. "A little upset, swan boy? Your sister will look magnificent in the halls of Rohan. You will be welcome at the wedding, of course. You would add a nice, delicate air to Meduseld."

Éomer ducked just in time to miss Erchirion's punch. He dashed around to the other side of his horse, expanding on his polite invitation to our wedding.

"It will be a most elaborate ceremony," he continued. "At least, as elaborate as we barbarians can make it." He had to keep moving to avoid being caught, but he threw comments over his shoulder at my brother and tried to keep the ill-at-ease beast between them.

"We'll hang garlands from the ceiling and spread the sweetest smelling rushes on the floor. The gold will be polished to shine like a glass mirror. Your sister will be the star of the ceremony, of course. Can't you just imagine her, floating down the hall in a dress and train, like a high elf straight out of the heavens, the stars shining in her hair?"

What a man. I don't think even _I'm_ this fanciful when I'm taunting my brothers.

"And there will be a feast to end all feasts," he continued. "With food the likes of which you've never even heard of. The dancing will last throughout the night, and will inspire ballads that will be passed through the generations. I just know you will love it."

The horse was now prancing nervously as the two grown men danced around it. They should have known better, and poor, intelligent, little me, I just stood as still as I could, away from the horse against the stable wall, keeping my eyes on the front and back ends of the animal.

Éomer threw a final suggestion at Erchirion. "You can be the flower girl."

"You—" Erchirion growled and lunged, but Éomer evaded him. Éomer's horse, however, really didn't take too kindly to that manoeuvre, and as my brother whirled to lunge again, the horse kicked out, landing a powerful hoof on Erchirion's knee. The resulting _crack_ was very clear. Erchirion's face told of the painful surprise and he went sprawling. He landed rather hard against the ground in the door to the stables. I heard another, smaller, cracking noise, followed by a distinct groan. I may have winced, a little.

Éomer gave his horse an affectionate rub.

"Many thanks, Firefoot," he said. Then he turned and looked at me. "That's two out of three of the Dol Amroth lads out of business," he said, spreading his hands wide. "Will the third be along shortly to discourage my further intentions upon you?"

I shook my head and laughed. "You really do look like a barbarian, Éomer. Your clothes are filthy. You stink of horse. And you look like you've been in a drunken brawl." But then again, I am a little barbaric myself.

I put my finger to his eye lightly. He hissed involuntarily and grabbed for my hand.

"Maybe don't do that," he suggested.

"You just beat up my brothers," I whispered, mostly in awe. Mostly.

"I might regret that later," he said. Then he tucked my hand into the crook of his arm and took Firefoot's reins in his other hand. He was about to walk further into the stables when we heard a loud roar. We turned to look, but I at least had heard that sound before.


	5. A Diplomatic Solution

_Then he went off to find his brother  
_ _The hot biggest man you ever did meet  
_ _And he gently tapped me with his knuckles  
_ _And I was minus two front teeth_

 _Well the red haired girl, she kept a-smiling,  
_ " _I'll go with you, young man," she said,  
_ " _We'll forget the priest this very morning,  
_ _Tonight we'll sleep in Murphy's shed!"_

Éomer's eyebrows shot up. Yes, Elphir's size was a bit daunting on first sight. Or on second sight. Or any number of sightings thereafter. And he did have quite a roar in those lungs of his, as I have heard in many a practice bout. Though never quite so fearsome, I have to say. I was quite flattered.

"May I present my brother Elphir?" I said lightly.

"Ah," said Éomer.

Elphir stalked towards us.

"Get your hands off my sister!" he thundered.

"But I like his hands," I protested.

"I have honourable designs—" Éomer began to say, but I think his swollen eye must have hampered his vision, because he didn't seem to notice my brother's fist sailing through the air until it connected with this teeth. And my dear man went down again.

But my, my, was it ever a fight. I've had my brothers beat up men on my account before, but I've never had any of those men fight back before. And win against three lads from Dol Amroth. Those Rohirrim must be as big as their boasts.

For my part, I grabbed that warhorse's reins and pulled him away. A feisty stallion, granted, just like his master, and a noble fighter, but I didn't want anyone seriously injured. Well, not any more injured than they already were. After all, _someone_ needed to be able to take me out riding.

I observed the scuffle before me, soaring high on exhilaration, and trying very, very hard not to think about the future, because I knew as soon as my actions had a chance to catch up with me I would most certainly regret my behaviour towards the King of Rohan.

He'd seen me at my worst, and him a stranger. My family was well acquainted with my antics, but _him_. I'd grinned at him. I'd winked at him. I'd lain my head upon his chest. I'd called him by his first name. I'd bantered with him. I'd even snuggled into his lap, for goodness sake.

Well, in for a dime, in for a dollar.

"Stop your fighting," I called out, but neither one heard me. I squared my shoulders and shoved myself directly between the two of them, facing Elphir.

"Elphir, stop," I said sternly, trying to sound like mother when she was mad at him. "I am taking this man home—"

"He is not a pet!"

"—to see father, because I want to marry him, and before you say—"

"Over my dead body!"

"— _before_ you said 'over my dead body', dear brother, please do consider that he is the King of Rohan—"

"Rohan be damned!"

"—and I am rather fond of his body so please stop trying to break it!" I finished at a shout. Elphir was the gentlest of my brothers, but we frequently argued across each other.

"It's not for you to say who you'll marry, Lothíriel," he said, still breathing hard.

"Of course not," I said most agreeably. "That's why I'm taking him to father right away. If it _were_ up to me, I would take him to the nearest unoccupied stall or shed."

Elphir stared at me, wide-eyed and apparently heedless of the blood dripping from his nose. Well, at least I stunned one person today.

Éomer put his hand on my shoulder and grinned widely. It made my heart race despite the vibrant red covering his teeth.

"Then by all means, let's go find one," he said.

He hoisted me back up onto Firefoot's saddle, spat blood onto the stable floor, then pulled himself manfully up behind me. He gripped by waist with no indecision whatsoever and settled himself against me like it was the most proper thing to do.

"Lothíriel!" said Elphir, finally recovering his power of speech.

"Don't worry, brother," I said. "The King of Rohan wouldn't dare take advantage of me." At least, I didn't think he would. Either way, I gave my brother a cheerful wave and Firefoot carried my bloody king and I out of the stable.


	6. Aren't We Just the Handsome Pair?

_Now, through the town we rode together  
_ _My black eye and her red hair  
_ _Smiling gaily at the tinkers  
_ _Weren't we just a handsome pair?_

He made a sound that was in between a laugh and a groan and I felt his head bend down onto my shoulder.

"What have we done?" he asked, his voice muffled into my back.

I grinned wildly and leaned my head back onto him.

" _You_ seduced the daughter of Imrahil and beat up his three sons. _I_ didn't do a blessed thing."

I heard him chuckle, and I felt him move my hair, and then kiss the back of my neck. It was followed by an, "Oops" and then a quick rubbing motion.

"What are you doing, my dear King Éomer?" I asked.

"I think the next time I kiss you, I should wipe the blood off my mouth first." He paused. "And maybe wait for my loose teeth to settle."

I laughed and pulled a handkerchief out of my sleeve, offering it to him.

"Here, dear," I said.

"Éomer!" We both looked over the see my father striding towards us.

"Hello, father!" I said brightly. I gestured to Éomer. "I'm going to marry this man." I announced it in my usual straightforward way, heedless of the people in the street and the looks we were getting.

Éomer must have smiled at my father, because my father raised his eyebrows and said, "Good heavens, Éomer. What have you been getting yourself into?"

"I'm afraid I rather incapacitated your sons, Imrahil."

"Oh?"

"They didn't take kindly to my designs on your daughter."

He then raised his brow at me. "Lothíriel?"

"What are you looking at me for?" I objected. "It wasn't me!"

"My dear, you are you," he said dryly. "You are never the innocent party."

"I went out for a ride on the Pelennor this morning and met Éomer on my way back. He was most chivalrous and offered me a ride."

"And your brothers and your own horse were unavailable?"

"They were engaged in manly displays of strength and skill with some local gentlemen."

"Why do I have difficulty believing that, Lothíriel?" asked my father dryly.

"Oh father, please," I said, leaning towards him, using my often-forgotten serious face. "You want me to marry. At least let me marry someone who has seen me dancing around the Pelennor and doesn't object to my wild ways."

"I object to your wild ways with anyone else," said Éomer plainly.

"Shush," I said to him. "I'm negotiating." I looked back to my father. Despite all my joking, I knew I would never marry a man my father didn't approve of. I was sure he would approve of Éomer, but still… I hate waiting. It makes me insecure.

"Well," my father said at last, "I'm not sure I should congratulate you, Éomer, for finding what will surely be the most difficult wife in the whole of Middle-Earth, but I congratulate you nonetheless. If anyone is a match for my daughter, you certainly are."

"Thank you, Imrahil," said my man with a grin. "Your daughter will be most at home with the plains and horses of Rohan."

"It's not the plains and horses of Rohan I'd go for," I pointed out, giving him an elbow in the ribs. He gasped. Oops, maybe I should be more careful of those ribs…

My father looked us over and shook his head. "The two of you are wind-swept and wild, and one of you is exceedingly dirty and bloody. But cleaned up, you might be half-way presentable."

Oh, yes, it had started out as a fine morning…

 _And all the while, the redhead smiled!_


End file.
